


The Gold Saucer's Golden Arches

by belderiver



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: During Canon, Gen, Humor, McDonald's, The Gang Goes To McDonald's, canon compliant crack, sephiroth is a fast food gremlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belderiver/pseuds/belderiver
Summary: Before he doomed the world to ash and ruin, Sephiroth wanted a burger.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 59





	The Gold Saucer's Golden Arches

**Author's Note:**

> It's very important to me that you know: This is technically canon compliant.

Before he doomed the world to ash and ruin, Sephiroth wanted a burger. 

The hankering struck him, for no reason in particular, as he passed through the remnants of North Corel. The clone he had sent to inquire after a notorious collector at the Gold Saucer had turned up nothing about the Black Materia. However, in the exchange of information, it occurred to him that the Saucer was likely to have the appropriate amenities. There was no real reason not to go and grab one - everyone had their creature comforts, and considering that the tactile reality of a cheeseburger with fries would imminently be coming to an end, he might as well indulge.

With his justifications squared away and internally repeated for Mother's silent approval, he made for the ropeway and boarded the tram. 

Immediately upon disembarking, he felt harassed.

For starters, the food court was not easy to locate. Despite unsolicited directions from the vividly uniformed staff and the thorough study of a map written mostly with bubble letters, he finished a circuit of the nonsensically designed park before he found the dining area. Unfortunately, like the rest of the park, it was packed with people, and a skin-crawling number of them were children. At least these days, they didn't ask for autographs. He moved through the crowd the way a brave man might walk through a room full of tarantulas. At last, he was closing in on the target: Two glowing golden arches, the same as you'd find every couple of blocks in Midgar.

It had been an age since he'd been to one in person. Even if you didn't count the five years spent mostly dead, he hadn't actually set foot in a restaurant in years, despite being a regular customer. He'd phone in his delivery order and wait for someone to carry it up to him to eat alone in the dark at two in the morning. He vaguely remembered the delivery man - and how he had hated so very, _very_ much that he kept encountering the same delivery man. It seemed perverse that anyone should directly and repeatedly observe his witching-hour take-out rituals. On the other hand, it was maybe not as terrible as having to speak directly to a teenage cashier.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time he had suffered for his conviction. Sephiroth stepped up the counter.

"Welcome, sir, how can I help you today?" The cashier asked, looking equally uneasy with having to speak to a customer.

"Hello. I'll have a Royale with cheese, large fries, a double-chocolate milkshake and a black coffee.” A beat. That didn’t feel quite right. “Please." Neither did that.

"Um... we don't actually have that sandwich, sir."

Sephiroth stared. "What?"

"I think we stopped serving it a while ago. S-sorry. Can I get you something else?"

"Did you mishear me?" he asked, disbelieving. "You stopped serving Royales? One of your signature items?"

"Uhhhh," said the cashier, fiddling uncomfortably with her glasses. "That's just the way it is at this location, sir."

Impossible. Sephiroth craned his head back to look at the menu board, trying to verify the cashier's dubious claims. How could this be happening? Was it a recent change? Five years may have passed but it hardly seemed long enough for such a drastic cut to the menu. It was the best burger they had! Maybe the cashier was just incompetent. Maybe she was denying him deliberately. He stared hard at the gormless teen girl who looked simultaneously very uncomfortable and deeply enamoured with his clavicle. He grimaced. Probably not deliberately.

"Hurry up, man," came a voice from behind him. Sephiroth did not turn to look, but did gently remind himself that if he murdered anyone here, they probably wouldn't give him a burger.

"Tina," he read sternly from her name tag, leaning forward against the counter. "Just make it. Just charge me for the items individually and make it."

"Uhhhhhh…" said Tina, even more flustered. "S-sorry, I don't think the machine will let me do that..."

" _It will._ " 

She made the mistake of lifting her eyes to his menacing expression and quailed.

"I think I should get my shift manager…"

"No, don't get your--"

The speaker system chimed, and Sephiroth looked up to listen to its impending announcement. A woman's voice sounded over the din of the food court in a mechanically cheerful tone.

"Attention, all Gold Saucer guests. Due to an emergency and ongoing investigation in the Battle Square, all facilities are now temporarily closed. All guests, please evacuate to the entrance hall. Repeat, all guests, please--"

A murmur of panic swept the food court. Sephiroth turned back to Tina to finish arguing only to discover she had already shuffled quietly away. The store was closing. A child in the line behind him was crying. The crowd was thinning.

This wasn’t over.

  


* * *

  


“I knew it, sonny! I told everybody I knew, those papers were made up! Falsified! Now, you’re probably used to your fans being a little younger, but--”

Like most visionaries, Sephiroth was a forward-looking man, not given to finding himself adrift in the murky surf of reappraisal. His chosen course had been chosen for a reason, and he would see it through.

He told himself this as he palmed a dainty china teacup while the highly eccentric and mostly naked proprietor of the Gold Saucer babbled in the chair across from him. Unfortunately, Dio had not seen fit to outfit his personal lounge with end-tables, only armchairs in loud print and velveteen.

"You said you were passing through," said Dio. "On your way to anywhere in particular, perhaps for vacati--"

“The Gongaga region," clipped Sephiroth, which was roughly opposite his actual intended destination. "About the Battle Square murders. I contacted you because I’m certain I can bring the matter to a swift conclusion.” And the dining area to a swift re-opening.

“Oh, well why didn’t you say so sooner, m’boy?” Dio guffawed obnoxiously. Everything about him had been designed to offend, and the laugh was apparently no different. “It's very kind of you to offer, but there's no need. Why, I took care of that nasty business before returning to speak with you! The ne’er-do-wells responsible are already in the Desert Prison below, and let the sands take them for all I care.”

“Has the park re-opened then?” 

Dio paused and gave Sephiroth a quizzical look.

“Well, they're preparing, but I haven't declared it open yet. Normally it would be, but--”

“But?” Sephiroth demanded.

“Well,” blustered Dio, “It's not every day such a celebrity wanders into my establishment! I wanted to finish up our little chat, maybe show you my private collection and--"

The teacup shattered in Sephiroth’s grip. Happily, he had been sitting in Dio's office for long enough that the contents had already gone cold.

"Mercy!" shouted Dio. "You don't know your own strength! Never mind, I'll call someone--"

"It's _fine._ " Sephiroth stood and shook out his gloves, which also happened to be the best cure for agitation he had available that did not involve fire. "Do continue."

He breathed in slowly, which was not something his current body particularly needed to do, but which summoned his patience regardless. So close. This would all be over soon. The ceaseless rambling of an idiot fan would never burden him again. For now, he would simply have to endure.

Besides, if there was anyone here who could force them to make him a Royale, it was Dio.

  


* * *

  


“You sure you’re doing okay, Barret?” asked Aeris, tentative.

“Yeah,” he answered gruffly, and meant it. “Strange to say it, but yeah.”

“Even so, something to eat will help,” assured Tifa, patting his arm consolingly as they walked.

“E-Excuse me, sir! You can’t bring your - um - dog in here!”

“I’m not a--” began Red XIII in protest to the Gold Saucer usher.

“Therapy dog,” Cloud announced over him without breaking his stride. “I’m very traumatized.”

“It’s true, he’s like, _super_ messed up,” added Yuffie as she skipped by.

“This way, this way!” 

With Cait Sith in the lead, Avalanche pooled into the busy food court, heading for a cluster of dirty but empty tables that they hastily pushed together. Crowding around the tables, some two to a side, they began the now-familiar ritual of pooling the day’s gil and figuring out dinner.

“Noodles?” suggested Yuffie. Cloud shook his head.

“It’s Barret’s pick.” 

Normally, she would have argued, but she settled for sulkily prodding Red with her foot under the table.

“Stick with the classics,” said Barret, looking towards the burger joint. He swiveled in his seat for a better look at the menu board from his vantage point. “Think they got those rib sandwiches?”

“Nah,” answered Cait Sith. “That promotion ended a couple weeks back.”

“Damn. Always miss the ribs.”

“Okay!” Aeris bounced to her feet. “I’ll go this time! What’s everybody want? I’m getting chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce, enough to share.”

“I’m still thinkin’, get me last,” said Barret, scrubbing a hand across his beard and weighing the decision as though the consequences might be severe.

“Big Midburger,” said Cloud, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair, which might have looked cool on something other than food court furniture. “Whatever to drink.”

“Okay, Tifa?”

“Ummm… Grilled chicken salad.”

“ _Tifa!_ ” Aeris looked scandalized. Yuffie looked mainly disgusted. Tifa shuffled self-consciously in her seat.

“I feel gross if I don’t eat vegetables!” she protested. “Alright, alright, an apple pie too.”

“You can have some of my nuggets,” Aeris reassured. Yuffie was still shaking her head when Aeris turned to her.

“Ugh, just get me a cheeseburger. But no mustard, no mayo, no lettuce, no onion, no pickle, no seeds on the bun. And onion rings instead of fries.”

“Didn’t you say no onion?”

“It’s different. Oh, and an Icicle Dew. Half ice. Thanks.”

Aeris nodded vaguely. Maybe Yuffie would repeat it for her before she left for the counter. She bent down and tipped her head to peer under the table to where Red XIII was curled up, protected from view by the circle of them. Red lifted his head off of his paws.

“... Meat,” he said. 

“Is that _all?_ ” Aeris asked sweetly.

“... and ice cream.” He’d taken a shine to the treat in Costa del Sol, though for whatever reason, didn’t much like to admit it.

Aeris grinned and straightened up to find Barret and Cait Sith still discussing the promotional sandwiches of the season.

“You know it’s not going to be actual Angus beef,” said Cait Sith.

“I know, I know… but,” Barret bargained, “Maybe it’s still higher quality, you know what I mean?”

“It’s not!”

“Urrgh! But I gotta know! Aeris, get me that Angus burger special!”

“You’re gonna regret it again,” said Yuffie.

“Am not! Respect your elders!” Barret shot back. 

“No fighting, we’re all hungry,” said Tifa, leaning in between them. “Aeris, can you get Cait Sith a fish sandwich?”

“What? But I’m a toy! I don’t need to eat.”

“Are you sure?” she frowned. “I’d feel bad if you were left out.”

“Aw, well I can’t say no to that face,” Cait Sith answered. “One fish sandwich, Aeris.”

“Okay! Yuffie, can you repeat your order to Cloud? He’s going to help me carry everything.”

“I am?” said Cloud. The table nodded, and Cloud shrugged in resignation, getting to his feet. “Alright, whatever. But what do you guys think of getting it all to go?”

“What for?” asked Red XIII.

“It’s no big deal,” Cloud said with a roll of his shoulder. “Just feels like somebody’s watching me.”

“Probably just ‘cause you’re a famous Chocobo jockey now,” teased Yuffie.

“Shut it. I’m serious, it’s giving me the creeps.”

From across the food court, Sephiroth chuckled into his double-chocolate milkshake. So - he had noticed after all. How strange. The clone - Cloud, was it? - clearly responded to the Call, but he had never seen one quite so lively. Independent thought might make him difficult to reach, though it could certainly prove useful in other ways. Sephiroth munched thoughtfully on his fries and tried not to get too attached to them. Gods, they were so much better fresh.

The Royale wasn’t quite as good as he remembered - maybe because he’d forced them off-menu - but it didn’t matter. After the day’s ordeals, just having it in his hands was victory enough. He took a savouring bite and watched as Cloud and the girl in pink joined the queue.

He’d have to keep him in mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Nautilusopus for encouraging me to chase this dream.


End file.
